


The Starry Night

by Fabelhaft (Blue_Blood_Monarch)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Smoking, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23681263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Blood_Monarch/pseuds/Fabelhaft
Summary: It’s dark. The moon’s an off-white smudge in the sky, but, then again, maybe that’s because Arthur’s had too much to drink, because the night sky is starting to look like a Van Gough painting.The thought is amusing to his drunk, hazy mind, and he laughs. He laughs, his chin lifting, and it forces his head down where it rests on Elyan’s thigh, and Elyan’s smile, when Arthur gazes up at him, is fond and warm. It’s the kind of warmth that he craves, that he cherishes like it’s worth more than gold, because, to him, it is. He keeps it close to his chest, and on cold, bitter nights like these he lets it unfurl, let it seep through his skin and wrap around his cold, shrivelled heart until it almost feels like happiness.
Relationships: Elyan/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	The Starry Night

It’s dark. The moon’s an off-white smudge in the sky, but, then again, maybe that’s because Arthur’s had too much to drink, because the night sky is starting to look like a Van Gough painting. 

The thought is amusing to his drunk, hazy mind, and he laughs. He laughs, his chin lifting, and it forces his head down where it rests on Elyan’s thigh, and Elyan’s smile, when Arthur gazes up at him, is fond and warm. It’s the kind of warmth that he craves, that he cherishes like it’s worth more than gold, because, to him, it  _ is _ . He keeps it close to his chest, and on cold, bitter nights like these he lets it unfurl, let it seep through his skin and wrap around his cold, shrivelled heart until it almost feels like happiness. 

He’s sprawled out on the thin, small wall that encloses part of the playground- a child’s playground, but they’re moody teenagers and there’s a thrill to returning here late at night with a bottle of whisky and stolen cigarettes. 

Elyan’s sat on the wall, his legs out straight before him, although, and not that Arthur would say this to his face, they’re a little short, and it’s more than a little adorable. 

Arthur’s lay perpendicular to him, with his head pillowed on his leg, and the wall’s thin enough that most of him is hanging off it, knuckles scraping the ground, but  _ most _ isn’t  _ all _ , and he’s still young enough that it’s not awful. 

A cigarette, glowing amber in the dusky dark is held in loose fingers, and in the face of Elyan, smiling and backlit by the smudgy moon, all he can do is bring it up to his lips and blow a thin stream of smoke at the offending face to hide behind, because, as drunk as he is, as drunk as  _ Elyan _ is, his walls are threatening to crumble under his warm, lopsided grin. 

Elyan waves it away with a lazy waft of his hand and brings the bottle to his lips, and Arthur’s distracted by the bob of his throat, is so enthralled by the wetness it leaves on his lips that his fingers go lax around the cigarette and it slips through them, landing on the floor, but he barely even notices, doesn’t even care, because his mind’s a static buzz because Elyan looks like some kind of God with the moon framing him like that.

Elyan tips his head back, and his eyes are wondrous. The whiskey's clutched in his hands, and Arthur swallows, hard, against the urge to take it from him and take his hand in his own. “Look,” he breathes. “Look at the  _ stars _ .”

Arthur does, dutifully, but. Well. They’re not that impressive, are they? Just little white pinpricks in a blanket of navy. They’re in London, so the sky’s not even clear enough to see them very well. But-  _ but _ . 

There’s something to be said for the way they reflect in his eyes, the way they light them up with a joy that’s rather breathtaking. Maybe it's the cig, maybe it's the whiskey, but his chest feels a little tight, and his eyes are burning and, for one single moment, time seems like an inexplicably crushing weight on his chest. 

But then Elyan’s eyes are on him, and Arthur only manages to grunt out a “Yeah, they’re alright, I suppose.” Elyan rolls his eyes, and Arthur can’t hold back the smile that creeps on his face. 

“They’re so small,” Elyan’s saying, and Arthur snorts, because he’s fucking  _ drunk _ . “So small and so old.”

Arthur bites back the retort, but Elyan must see it in his face, because he frowns, and Arthur laughs. He closes his eyes and lets Elyan stare up at the sky with drunken awe, and, with a sudden bout of bravery, takes his hand, gentle and slow; he’s glad he can’t see Elyan’s reaction, because his cheeks burn with embarrassment enough, but Elyan only gives is a gentle squeeze, and doesn’t say a word. 

They stay like that for what feels like hours, Arthur bringing their hands to rest over his heart, and Elyan staring up at the night sky, and Arthur can almost touch joy. 

Elyan’s always loved the stars, he thinks to himself, somewhat sluggish. He laughs as he remembers- he’d wanted to be an astronaut. They’d play together, and Elyan would be an astronaut travelling through space and exploring stars and Arthur would be a knight, battling all foe who would do them harm on their interstellar quest. 

It’s a memory tinged with the warmth of nostalgia, and Arthur breathes slow and deep as he lets himself remember it, lets himself remember Elyan’s bedroom, with the glow in the dark star’s he’d stuck on his walls for his birthday while Gwen had distracted him because he hadn’t been able to reach the ceiling. 

God, he’d almost forgotten about that. 

There’s a gentle prod to his cheek, and he hums inquiringly. “What’s got you so deep in your head?”

He smiles, and opens his eyes to look at Elyan. “Thinking about you,” he says honestly, and Elyan’s answering beam is blinding. It creeps under his skin and tightens around his heart, until it hurts, until it feels bruised and aching. “Remember when I stuck those stars on your walls when we were kids?”

Elyan laughs, drunk and delighted, and Arthur can’t help the way his lips quirk into something sappy and lovestruck. 

“I do!” He crows. “You had to stick them on the walls because-”

“I couldn’t reach your ceiling and your dad didn’t want me to fall off a stepladder and break my neck,” Arthur finishes, grinning. 

“Yeah, you were a clumsy kid,” Elyan agrees as he sets the bottle of whisky at his feet before moving his hand to stroke through Arthur’s hair. 

Arthur closes his eyes, and he lets him. 

Initiating any kind of physical affection has always been a struggle for him; he can knock around with his mates, but when it really counts, when all he wants to do is say fuck the world and hold Elyan’s hand and kiss him in full view of their friends, his hands go clammy and his heart becomes this thundering drum in his chest that sends his knees weak and throat dry and-

He’s always loved receiving it, though. A closely guarded secret that Elyan had discovered almost straight away. He’d just- taken his hand, like it was nothing, oblivious to Arthur’s inner turmoil. Arthur’s cheeks had reddened, and his ears had burned, and Elyan still teased him about it. 

Their words lull into a comforting silence, and he can feel that Elyan’s watching  _ him _ now, and it's thrilling. It sends something warm and delicious through his blood, sends a slight shiver down his spine. 

Because Elyan always looks at him like he’s  _ special _ . 

“You took me to a planetarium, too, for my birthday,” Elyan speaks. 

“When was that?”

“My twelfth birthday, just after mum died.” Elyan’s voice is soft, but his fingers squeeze Arthur’s like it’s okay. “It was awful, but you skipped training just to take me.” He laughs. “Your father was furious.”

Arthur smiles. “You loved it. It was worth it.”

And that there is the reason Elyan loves him. His heart is so  _ big _ , so soft, even when he tries to harden it. It’s impossible  _ not _ to love him. 

“There’s just something about them,” Elyan sighs, interlacing his fingers with Arthur’s. “Something magical.”

“One day,” Arthur says softly, and his eyes are open now, and they’re on Elyan’s, steady and unwavering. “I’ll even marry you under them.”

There’s a nervous twitch of his left eye, an inexplicably endearing tell, and Elyan’s suddenly overcome with so much affection, so much  _ love _ for this boy that there’s simply no way that he could ever think of a reason to say no to that. 

“One day,” he agrees, and when Arthur smiles, big and relieved, not even the stars could compare to the beauty of it. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lot better in my head, and it's definitely not brilliant, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway!


End file.
